The Basement
by marije2410
Summary: McGee and Gibbs get trapped in a basement together. Just a little one-shot I wrote, purely for McGee whump.


A/N: Just a little one-shot, purely written for the McGee-whump. Hope you enjoy it!

The basement

Gibbs' first conscious thought was that he was really getting too old to fall asleep under his boat. His second one was that he should probably drink less bourbon too. Then he opened his eyes and realised he wasn't in his own familiar basement, but in a different one. The room was cold and empty except for an old couch. It smelled like something that seemed a hell of a lot like rotten eggs.

Gibbs' head pounded painfully and he felt blood behind his right ear. His hand went to his belt immediately, noticing his gun was missing. So was his back-up weapon and both of his knifes. He tried to remember what'd happened. A female marine had been attacked, raped and almost killed. Luckily they'd found fingerprints that belonged to another marine, Petty Officer Peter Johnson. Gibbs had gone to his house to arrest him, together with McGee. Johnson had managed to surprise him and knock him out. McGee'd tried to stop him, and got hit himself.

Gibbs sat up quickly, a little too quickly according to his protesting head. He scanned the room, looking for the Junior Agent. McGee lay motionless behind the couch.

Gibbs scrambled on his feet, cursing the pain it caused in his bad knee. He guessed Johnson had just thrown them into the basement without caring about causing any discomfort. He hobbled to McGee and kneeled next to him in an extremely uncomfortable position. He felt for a pulse, relieved to find a strong, steady one.

"McGee," he said. "Time to wake up."

The young agent didn't react. Gibbs shook his arm gently. "McGee. Tim." His eyes opened at the unusual use of his given name. "Boss?" he managed.

Gibbs nodded, giving the younger man a rare smile. "How're ya feeling?" he asked.

Tim thought about the question for a while. "I have a hell of a headache, but other than that I think I'm fine."

"Can you sit up? I'll help you."

Tim nodded and together they got him into a sitting position. "Let's move to that couch," Gibbs pointed.

Tim tried to get on his feet, only to fall back on the ground with a scream of pain. "My right ankle," he gasped, tears of pain starting to form in his eyes.

Gibbs took off Tim's shoe as gently as possible, but couldn't hold the young man from gasping in agony once more. The odd angle of the ankle told Gibbs everything he needed to know. "It's broken," he muttered.

Tim paled even further. He knew his ankle needed to be set as soon as possible, or else he could lose the use of it completely. God knew how long they would be stuck in the basement, so there was only one option. Gibbs knew it too.

"Tim, I need to…"

"Yeah, I know Boss."

Gibbs nodded. "It's gonna hurt pretty badly."

Tim tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Not my first broken bone, Boss."

Gibbs was glad Tim pretended it wasn't a big deal. He would have done the same thing, he realised. It made things a lot easier.

He let his fingers run over the ankle, locating the place where it was broken. He'd set bones before, but never on people he considered family. All he had to do was pull, turn, push. But if he screwed up, he had to do it again and would only cause the man he thought of as a son more pain. Pull, turn push. He took a deep breath and grabbed the ankle tightly, not completely able to ignore Tim's gasp of pain. He pulled, turned and pushed the bone back in place. The younger man's cry didn't come unexpected, but it was still hard to hear, considering he was the one that caused the pain. He knew it was necessary, that it was either that or something that was way worse in the end. At least, that was what he told himself. His heart still had trouble excepting it.

Tim didn't think he'd ever felt something like that in his entire life. He hadn't lied to Gibbs, it wasn't his first broken bone, but it was the first one that wasn't set in the relatively painless environment of the hospital. He couldn't hold back a cry of pain when Gibbs set his ankle back in place with a mighty twist. It took Tim a few minutes to catch his breath. When the pain had lessened a bit, he was able to open his eyes again, not realising he'd had them shut tight. He looked at Gibbs, surprised to see the man struggling to catch his own breath.

"You okay, Boss?" he asked with not only pain, but also concern in his voice.

Gibbs looked up, still stuck in the debate between his head and heart. He forced a smile. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

Tim answered his smile. "I'm fine." Gibbs gave him a stare. "Really, I am," he said in a somewhat shaky voice. It was only then he noticed the blood on his superior's face. "Are you hurt?"

Gibbs shrugged. "That's just where he hit me. It's nothing. DiNozzo's had it a million times."

Tim looked at his surroundings for the first time since he woke up. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Probably Petty Officer Johnson's basement."

Tim closed his eyes again, willing the pain in his head and ankle to go down. "Solid lock, I assume?"

"Haven't tried it yet." He defended himself as Tim raised his eyebrow. "Once I woke up you were my first concern. Hell, for all I knew you could have been dead!"

Tim stayed silent for a few seconds. Then he said in a soft voice: "Thank you, Boss."

Gibbs smiled his first real smile since they'd gotten in this situation. "I look after my people, Tim."

He got on his feet and walked to the stairs of the basement. Tim noticed the slight limp, but decided to let it go. His Boss wouldn't admit to any pain anyway. Gibbs walked up the stairs carefully, trying to put as less weight as possible on his bad leg. The fact that it was really cold in the basement didn't help. He tried to open the door, which was locked solidly, just as Tim had predicted. He turned around again and shook his head at the questioning look his Junior Agent shot at him.

Tim sighed. "We're screwed, aren't we?"

Gibbs walked down again, something that luckily caused little trouble. "Yeah, pretty much."

They had walked into Johnson's trap so easily. No, Gibbs corrected himself, HE was the one that walked into the trap. Tim only followed his lead. "I let you down, Tim. I should've been more careful. I made a Probie's mistake and you got hurt because of that."

"Not your fault Boss," Tim replied firmly. "I'd have done the same thing."

Gibbs sighed. He really didn't see a way out of the crappy situation he got them in. He looked at Tim again. The agent was shivering on the cold basement floor. He really didn't like it, but moving him to the couch would cause him a considerable amount of pain. Talking about catch 22.

Tim seemed to read his mind. "I think I can make it to the couch with some help, Boss."

"You sure?"

Tim nodded firmly, and Gibbs moved quickly to support his agent. With a lot of trouble and some pain filled gasps they got him on his feet. Tim couldn't put any weight at all on his injured ankle, so he leaned heavily on Gibbs. He hated to burden the Senior Agent, who was having trouble walking himself, but didn't really have any choice. The couch was only ten metres away, but it seemed much longer to both men. When they finally got there Tim collapsed on it immediately. Gibbs sat next to him, leaving enough room for him to elevate his ankle.

When he was a little more comfortable, Tim asked: "So what do we do now?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Now we wait."

Tim nodded. It was the only thing they could do, really. Eventually someone would miss them and come look for them. They only hoped Johnson wouldn't come down to finish the job before that would happen.

They sat next to each other silently for what felt like hours, but the couldn't know for sure because their watches and cell phones had been taken, together with their weapons.

Suddenly they heard gunfire. Gibbs jumped up quickly, bracing himself to protect his agent from whatever would come through the basement door. Tim tried to get on his feet as well, but was stopped by his Boss' voice. "What the hell do you think you're doin'?"

"Having your back, Boss."

Gibbs looked at his agent, secretly bursting with pride. "I appreciate that, Tim, but you're not exactly in a condition to do that right now."

"Boss," Tim protested.

"Not open for debate, McGee. You just stay on that couch."

Tim looked like he was going to argue, but they suddenly heard a familiar voice. "Boss? McGee?"

It was Tony. "In the basement, Tony!" Gibbs yelled as hard as he could. Moments later the door was kicked in violently and Tony and Ziva ran down the stairs to their teammates.

"You guys okay?" Tony asked concerned.

"I'm fine, but McGee's got a broken ankle," Gibbs answered. "I managed to set it, but he needs to go to a hospital as fast as possible. What about Johnson?"

"No need to worry about him, Gibbs," Ziva said, almost amused. "That reminds me, we need to call Ducky."

To Tim, everything went in a blur. EMT's arrived in the basement, loading him onto a gurney and carrying him to an ambulance outside quickly. Before the doors closed, he saw Gibbs coming out of the house with some help from Tony. He was lead to another ambulance, protesting heavily against that. When he saw Tim look at him, he smiled reassuringly and Tim knew everything would be alright.


End file.
